Slick Willie
by ForeverLulu
Summary: Crackfic. Gilligan spills suntan oil all over Mary Ann and she tells him to rub it in. So he does... Written as a birthday fic for JWood201. Happy Birthday busy buddy!


**HAPPY BIRTHDAY JWOOD201! (Technically, it's already the 10th over here!)**

**Disclaimer- total crackfic. Rated M.**

**Slick Willie**

Gilligan held the vessel gingerly. The Professor had told him to be careful and not spill a drop of its contents, because that was all there was, and so he cradled the small gourd gently in both hands as he made his way down to the beach to meet Mary Ann. He stepped delicately over logs and small rocks and negotiated his way safely around errant monkeys sitting in the middle of the path, shooing them away almost impatiently when they tried to engage him in small talk. He was doing well, he thought, holding onto this special gourd that had been entrusted into his care, making sure he didn't lose any of the precious liquid contained therein.

When he finally got to the beach, there was Mary Ann, laying on her back on her pink beach towel in her little yellow bikini, her legs raised and bent and knees everso slightly apart. She was facing away from him, towards the rippling lagoon, but Gilligan's over active imagination didn't need blatant visuals to snap into overdrive. His hands shook and the gourd started to wobble. His blue eyes fixed on the gourd, willing it not to spill. Then his gaze flicked up towards Mary Ann just in time to see her turn over onto her stomach with her peachy behind stuck up in the air as she manoeuvred into position on the towel. At the same time, her warm brown eyes caught him standing at the end of the jungle path and her pink lips stretched into a welcoming smile.

"Gilligan! There you are! Do you have the sun oil?"

"Height rear, Mary Ann!" Gilligan garbled. "I mean, right here!"

Gilligan's feet sprang into action- alas, a little more quickly than the rest of him. He leapt forward like a gazelle, then as he tried to regain his footing he tripped over his own sneaker laces and went running forward like a charging bull, all the while juggling with the gourd which by now had taken on a life of its own and was trying to leap out of his hands as though his skin were made of burning lava.

Gilligan fell flat on his face. The gourd flew into the air and somersaulted, spilling its contents all over the laughing farm girl, who immediately stopped laughing as a slick of oil covered her head, face and neck and spilled all the way along her back.

"Gilligan!" she spluttered, pushing herself up into a crouching position on all fours, which didn't help Gilligan's imagination any.

"I'm sorry, Mary Ann! I'm really sorry!" Gilligan scrambled up and rushed to Mary Ann's side, his hands flapping. The empty gourd rolled away across the sand, all but forgotten about as Gilligan tried to wipe the thick pools of oily liquid off of Mary Ann's shoulders.

"Oh, Gilligan, it's all over me!" Mary Ann wailed. "Didn't the Professor tell you to be careful?"

"I _was_ careful!" Gilligan protested. "I was careful right up until..." he clamped his mouth shut. _Right up until I saw your cute buns stick up into the air_ wouldn't go down too well as an excuse right now, he thought, miserably.

"Oh, never mind," the farm girl sighed. "It's too late now. You may as well rub it in before it all gets wasted."

Gilligan blinked, unsure that he'd heard her right. He wiggled a finger into his ear, wondering if some of the oil had gone in and messed with his hearing. "Do what, Mary Ann?" he uttered, hoarsely.

"Rub it in!" Mary Ann repeated. "And quickly, before it gets wasted! You know this is the only sun oil that helps me tan without getting burned, and you know the Professor can only make it when those rare berries are in season! Come on, Gilligan, get rubbing! This is no time to be shy!"

Gilligan's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. "Mary Ann, I can't!"

Mary Ann grabbed his flailing hands, stilling them in mid air. "You can, Gilligan, and you will! Starting right now!" She placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. "Get rubbing!"

Wearing an expression that made him look like an electrocuted meerkat, Gilligan began rubbing Mary Ann's shoulders. As he did so, the farm girl twisted under his fingers and presented her back to him. Rivers of oil cascaded down her slender spine and he scooped them up and drizzled them onto her shoulders and rubbed them in, too stunned to say a word.

"Oh, Gilligan, do I have to tell you everything? Rub it in _all over_!"

Gilligan gulped down the entire length of his desert dry throat. "I need to warm up first," he stuttered, staring at Mary Ann's delicate shoulderblades glistening in the sun.

Mary Ann was incredulous. "In _this_ heat?"

Gilligan's hands slipped downwards. "Okay, okay! Gee, you women sure are demanding!"

The boy in red began slowly rubbing the thick oil into Mary Ann's back. There was so much of it that his cuffs began to soak it up, and when he tried to wipe his hands he only succeeded in getting the ooze all over his clothes. Mary Ann glanced over her shoulder and saw the pickle he was in.

"Well, take your shirt off, silly!" she giggled. "Oh, Gilligan, I swear sometimes you need a mother, not a gir..." she stopped abruptly and looked away into the trees, biting her lip. "Yes, well, whatever I was going to say, I've forgotten it."

Gilligan, meanwhile, was already shedding his rugby shirt as it had indeed become very warm and the slippery oil combined with the salty sweat trickling down his neck was making him feel slightly queasy. He balled the garment up and threw it away with an expansive overhand gesture which sent a rather masculine scent of fresh perspiration sailing into Mary Ann's nostrils. Then he picked up his hat from the sand and jammed it back on his head. Now he was clad only in his jeans and grey undershirt as he knelt behind Mary Ann and resumed rubbing the oil onto her back.

Mary Ann sighed gently.

"I'm sorry, Mary Ann," Gilligan repeated, misinterpreting the sigh completely. "I wish I wasn't such a klutz sometimes."

Mary Ann arched her neck and closed her eyes. "You're not being a klutz now, Gilligan," she assured him.

"I'm not?"

"No, sir- you are not."

Gilligan grinned goofily. "Gee, thanks."

Mary Ann smiled warmly. "You're welcome."

Gilligan scooped up a puddle of oil from the base of Mary Ann's spine and began smoothing it down her arms.

"Well!" Mary Ann declared. "Now you're using your initiative!"

"I thought I was using my hands?" Gilligan replied.

Mary Ann chuckled under her breath. "Indeed you are, Gilligan," she laughed softly. With Gilligan leaning over her, breathing into her ear while he slid his oily hands down her arms, Mary Ann had another of those rare moments when she decided that being shipwrecked was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

She turned around on the towel. "Now do my front," she said, her voice low and sultry.

Gilligan visibly blanched. "Wh-what?"

"My front! Do my front!"

"But...I can't. And there's two reasons why."

Mary Ann sighed loudly. "And they are?"

Gilligan pointed to her chest. "That, and that."

Mary Ann looked down. "Gilligan, they're covered over," she said, slightly impatiently.

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"And you don't have to go anywhere near them if you don't want to."

Gilligan's face fell. "I don't?"

"Look, whether you do or not, Gilligan, just make up your mind before I fry to death!" With that, Mary Ann laid down and stretched out on her back, propping herself on her elbows so that the oil on her other side wouldn't get soaked up by the towel. As luck would have it, this put her into a position which made 'the two reasons why Gilligan couldn't rub oil onto her front' jut out even more, and sent the confused sailor into a state of mild panic.

Gently, he reached out and began rubbing the oil into Mary Ann's stomach, just below her ribcage.

Mary Ann opened her chocolate brown eyes just enough to watch Gilligan's large, clumsy hand glide tenderly across her oil slicked skin. She shivered all the way from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, which curled into the sand and began to dig little trenches.

"Are you cold, Mary Ann?" Gilligan asked.

_Darn it, he doesn't miss a thing. _"No, Gilligan, on the contrary, I'm very hot," the farm girl replied, and then, to herself, _which is an understatement!_

Gilligan's hand moved in a circular motion around Mary Ann's belly button, where a pearly tear of oil shimmered in the little dip. As his hand slid across her navel, his fingertip caught in the tiny hollow and the little drop of oil disappeared. Mary Ann opened her lips and a tiny moan escaped from her mouth.

"Don't forget my legs," she said, hearing her voice crack audibly.

Gilligan continued his ministrations, until suddenly he stopped and fixed her with a wide eyed stare. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "I just realised, how come _I'm _rubbing oil into your front? I mean sure, I can understand why you need someone to do your back, but you can reach..." he waved his hand around, "all these bits by yourself!"

_I know I can, but it's not nearly so much fun,_ thought Mary Ann, wickedly. But instead, she dug her fingers into the sand and then nodded towards her hands. "I'd get sand all over myself, that's why."

Gilligan shook his head. "Girls. Always got an answer for everything."

Mary Ann giggled. "And don't you forget it."

Gilligan's hand moved lower on Mary Ann's abdomen. He glanced at her face to find her head was tipped back and her eyes were shut. The smooth expanse of her throat stretched before him, and he watched the small throb of her jugular vein just beneath the skin.

Spots danced before his eyes. He scooped up some oil, leaned over her, and drizzled it into the hollow at the base of her throat.

Mary Ann tensed, not daring to move even a fraction.

Gilligan's fingers trailed over her throat, spreading the oil in a thin layer under her jaw. She cracked her eyelids open just a smidgen- as she'd expected, her young friend looked deep in thought, lost in concentration, completely fixated on the task at hand. _Hand _being the operative word...

Gilligan's hand moved slowly down Mary Ann's throat and onto her delicate collarbone. He spread his fingers out and stroked oil over her sternum, feeling the beginnings of her nubby ribs. Then his hand reached the foothills of her gentle mounds and stopped for a few moments, as though deciding what to do next.

Gilligan's touch disappeared briefly, but soon returned with another drizzling of oil, which he trickled onto her chest. Mary Ann was suddenly conscious of his breathing, of the size of him looming next to her, almost blocking out the sun. She turned her head towards him with a sudden urge to bury her face in his neck.

Gilligan's fingers trembled against Mary Ann's skin. She felt one of his fingertips brush the edge of her bikini top. She knew he was curious- had _always_ been curious. She wanted him to touch her, and not to be afraid. She lifted her sandy fingers and gently pulled his hand across her breast. Her eyelids fluttered open to find him staring straight at her.

There were no more words spoken as Gilligan lowered his head and, abruptly and somewhat clumsily, banged his mouth against hers.

Mary Ann let out a muffled gasp at the boldness of his move, and Gilligan drew back quickly.

"I'm sorry, Mary Ann!" he stuttered. "I'm sorry! I don't know why I did that! I'm..."

But Mary Ann was in no mood to argue. She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his head down again, and this time she clamped her mouth so hard onto his that he wouldn't have been able to pull away even if he tried- which he didn't.

The kiss was short, fierce, and frantic, their teeth clashing more than once. When it broke, Gilligan moved his mouth immediately to Mary Ann's neck, searching for that small, pulsing vein. Mary Ann moaned. She pushed his hand off her breast and down towards her legs. She fell back on her other elbow and Gilligan went with her.

Mary Ann pushed his hand onto her thigh. Already she was writhing around like a roped calf in a junior rodeo, muttering words that Gilligan couldn't really hear and wasn't sure he wanted to. With his mouth buried in her oil slicked neck and her matted, oily hair stuck all over his face, he could only give in to her desires, could only do what she wanted him to do, trusting her instincts way more than he trusted his own right now.

Mary Ann parted her legs and, with a little help from his friend, Gilligan put his hand between them.

Not three minutes later, Mary Ann's keening wail lifted from her parted lips and soared into the air like a silk ribbon carried on the wind, up and up, spiralling and twisting in perfectly beautiful waves. Somewhere a bird answered, mistaking her cries for its partner's mating call. Somewhere a monkey chattered excitedly. Back at the huts, Mrs. Howell cupped her hand daintily behind her ear while her husband droned on about the Stock Exchange, wondering what that strange sound was, before shrugging dismissively and taking another sip of her mimosa.

Mary Ann fell gasping onto the sand, glistening with oil and trembling in the aftermath of her sweet release. Gilligan propped himself above her, gazing at her expression with a sense of awe he only ever felt when he saw something that took his breath away, like the dolphin that used to follow the Minnow out of Honolulu harbour.

Yes, just like the dolphin, he thought as he marveled at her beauty, thinking how much more beautiful she looked with her hair all wild and tangled and her cheeks burning red, her mouth open in an 'o' and her chest rising and falling like a pair of bellows while her heart careened around in her chest, making her china-fragile ribs judder and shake as if someone was using a road drill nearby.

Being a man of very limited experience where women were concerned, Gilligan wasn't altogether sure what had just occurred, but he could make a guess based on some of the bawdier tales he'd heard in the Navy, he could see it was something she'd gotten a real kick out of, and so it made him very happy. He grinned widely and unconsciously pushed his hat to the back of his head, as he did when he was particularly pleased with himself.

Right at that moment, as the two lovebirds gazed at one another, a large cloud appeared and the sun went behind it. A deliciously cooling breeze snaked itself over Mary Ann's skin, making her sigh with pleasure.

"Would you look at that," mused Gilligan. "What a waste of sun oil."

Mary Ann smiled sleepily and took his hand in hers- the same hand that had worked wonders just a few minutes earlier. "Not a waste at all, Gilligan," she said, gazing dreamily into his curious blue/green eyes. "Not a waste, at all."

End ;)


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